The older man took a card from his jacket and held it out. Everett Radcliffe.

Pro Bono Legal Services.

“No, Mr.

Merrick,” he said, level and unhurried.

“I’m the attorney who tried to bring the truth to your door four years ago.”

Inside a small office down the hall, Everett opened a thick folder and laid its contents across the desk: returned certified-mail receipts, hospital intake records, and the original, uncropped photograph.